


The End

by Ryu_No_Joou



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Language, M/M, Past Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4869578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_No_Joou/pseuds/Ryu_No_Joou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius faces Vorstag's ex in a battle to the death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 10-11 years after the events of Skyrim. Sirius and Vorstag have been married 10 years.

They faced each other under a roiling sky, weapons drawn. In Hongar’s hands, Foe-Crusher, a gigantic steel warhammer easily a hundred pounds or more with notches along the handle, marking off the men he’d killed. In Sirius’ hand, Gehenna, a beautiful dragonbone sword glimmering faintly with a flame enchantment, deceivingly light-looking. Unseen by either of them, Vorstag watched from behind a cluster of boulders, his heart in his mouth.

He had begged Sirius to stay home. “It’s not important,” he’d whispered, clinging to his husband’s arm. “Stay away from him, he’s dangerous…”

“More dangerous than me?” Sirius had turned to Vorstag with sad eyes. “My love, I can’t let his challenge go unanswered. You’re always looking for him. I can see the terror in your eyes every time we’re in the Reach. And now he’s threatening our family. I have to put a stop to it.”

“Can’t you just…”

“Talk? No. He’s beyond talking.” Sirius had kissed Vorstag deeply, his husband returning the kiss desperately, almost in panic. “Stay here. It’ll be all right.”

But Vorstag hadn’t been able to stay, and had followed Sirius secretly to the wide plain outside Whiterun where Hongar had demanded Sirius meet him. He trembled, offering up prayers to the gods, the Daedra, anyone who would listen - just to keep his husband safe. He knew how deadly his Dragonborn husband was, but Hongar… Hongar was a challenge.

“You came.” Hongar was dressed in steel and fur, grinning with yellowed teeth at the tall Imperial across from him, resplendent in dragonscale armor. Looking at the fancy armor and sword, Hongar felt satisfied. The Dragonborn had quite the reputation - some shit about him being Nerevarine and Hero of Kvatch as well, but Hongar believed that like he believed the moons were made of cheese - but looked like a harmless pretty boy. It’d be easy to crush him and take Vorstag back.

“I did.” The Imperial stood still and watchful, the only movement his long hair fluttering in the wind. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “For Vorstag, I’ll ask one more time. Are you willing to leave us alone, and promise no harm will come to us or our family?”

“No.” Hongar hefted his hammer. “You took what’s mine, and I want him back.”

“I figured as much, but Vorstag pleaded for mercy. Since that’s impossible….” Sirius sighed. “Then I guess this is it.”

“I’ll make an extra-deep notch for you,” Hongar sneered, and sprung into action with a speed no one would expect such a large man to have. He swept the hammer back as if it weighed nothing, determined to take the Dragonborn’s head off with one blow.

Sirius lashed out just as quickly, flames streaking through the air as Gehenna and Foe-Crusher met with an almighty clang. For a quick second Hongar was impressed - ‘that sword’s not as light as it looks’ - and then he was pushing off, jumping out of the way as Sirius slashed at him. Flames singed the tips of the fur on his gauntlets, and Hongar’s pulse was racing. “I’m not that easy,” he growled, lunging forward again. He brought the hammer down, hoping to at least snap the Imperial’s arm, but -

“ ** _Wuld Na Kest!_** ” Sirius was gone in a flash, several yards away before Hongar could blink. The huge Nord growled in fury. Dragon shouts, huh? “You’re playing dirty,” he accused.

“It’s all fair,” Sirius replied grimly, as they circled each other like wary animals.

“Remember that when you’re losing,” Hongar replied, and they flew at each other again, weapons clanging and ringing as they met stroke for stroke.

Vorstag was terrified, watching with huge eyes and trembling hard. The two men were fighting like devils, almost faster than the eye could see. There was a lot of shouting, but from his vantage point Vorstag couldn’t make out any words. He was so riveted on the battle that he didn’t even notice the tears of fright that poured down his cheeks. He despised Hongar, would give anything for that bastard to die and put his mind at ease, but the huge Nord was showing no sign of slowing down. Sirius was taller but Hongar was much wider, bulging with muscle. Watching him, Vorstag could recall the pain of every blow, every injury, even though he had left Hongar thirteen years ago. In his mind, there was no one who could beat the hulking giant of a man, but he prayed hard for Sirius’ success. The shoulders of his tunic darkened as rain began to fall, but he didn’t notice. The thunder growled once more, closer this time.

Sirius and Hongar paid no attention to the steadily increasing downpour as they fell back, panting. Eyes riveted, they circled each other, catching their breaths.

“He’s mine.” the Nord spat.

“He’s no one’s but his own,” Sirius responded angrily.

“You took him from me.”

“You drove him away. It’d been over a year since he left you when I met him.”

“Fucking thief.”

“What do you call yourself?” Sirius shouted. “You stole his happiness, you stole years of his life. You snatched him away from his family and friends and kept him under your thumb. You’re the thief, not me.”

Thunder crackled, lightning splitting the sky. Vorstag was drenched, his clothes sticking to him. The wind had shifted with the coming storm and carried their words to his ears. Sirius was right, Hongar had taken so much from him and cut him off from all other aspects of his life. Leaving him had been like a prisoner finally breathing fresh air again. 

The combatants lunged at each other once more, the rain unable to quench the flames of their fury. Gehenna’s enchanted fire swirled through the gloom like a dervish. Foe-Crusher was illuminated eerie blue by every lightning strike. Sparks flew as the warriors countered each other’s blows, their combat mastery on stunning display. This was a fight not even the Imperial City’s famous Arena had seen the likes of.

Hongar brought Foe-Crusher down heavily, managing to break Sirius’ well-loved dragonscale shield. He yelled in triumph that proved to be short-lived as Gehenna sliced through his left gauntlet, sending the cuff flying into the air. But neither man paused, shaking off the ruined components of their armor almost absentmindedly. Both were breathing heavily, Sirius’ long hair hanging in wet strands around his face as Hongar’s bald head gleamed.

“Give up.” Hongar’s voice was a low growl.

“You think you can just ask and I’ll agree? There’s a lot at stake here.”

“I don’t care about your fucking kid, that was just to get you out here. Give me Vorstag and I’ll go.”  


Vorstag’s insides burned with fury at hearing his beloved daughter slighted so, and he knew no amount of threats would make Sirius give him up. “Kill him,” he begged, his hands tightening into fists. “Kill him, my love.”

The pair flew at each other again as thunder crashed and lightning lit up the sky brighter than day. Hongar cursed and bellowed, Sirius’ smooth Imperial tongue delivering barbs and jabs that stung. He wanted to make Hongar careless, taunting him until he did something stupid. It was a tactic he had employed well in his long life, especially in Morrowind, but his nasty jibes seemed to bounce off the Nord like Gehenna’s blows.

“Shut up!” Hongar brought Foe-Crusher down in a blinding flash, mud splashing as the hammer met the ground where Sirius’ foot had been just a second ago. The bandit wrenched the hammer from the soft ground easily, whipping it through the air, not in an attack this time but to send the mud flying into his enemy’s eyes.

“Shit!” Sirius stumbled and Vorstag cried out in terror. Hongar whipped around at the fearful sound, finally seeing his former lover hiding nearby.

“There you are,” he snarled, and started forward, grinning menacingly. Vorstag was frozen in fear. All he could see what that monstrous grin, his mind flashing back to the breaking point, remembering their last night together - the stink of skooma, the unbearable pain, the hot tears of humiliation running down his own cheeks….

It was a bad mistake on Hongar’s part. Sirius swiped the mud from his eyes and brought Gehenna down viciously, sharp dragonbone slicing through steel like butter. Blood sprayed, flames leapt. Sirius had succeeded in cutting Hongar from shoulder to hip, the vengeful fire of his blade searing the wound as it cut. Hongar bellowed like a mammoth caught in brambles, whirling to face his attacker once more. His left arm had gone numb, a horrible smell of burnt flesh, singed fur, and melted steel around him in a noxious aura. Clearly the Dragonborn thought it was over, but he was wrong.

“Don’t think I can use this one-handed?” Hongar whispered, and Foe-Crusher swung in a deadly arc, connecting solidly with Sirius’ ribs. The Imperial let out a roar almost like a dragon’s in pain, driven to one knee by the splintering pain. Tears of agony mingled with the rain on his face. But he knew if he stopped, he was dead.

“ ** _Fus… RO DAH!_** ” It hurt his shattered ribs even more to Shout, but Hongar was blown backwards, giving Sirius time to stagger to his feet and press his hand against his side. Golden light swirled around him as he tried to heal his ribs quickly. Hongar was very strong, brushing the Thu’um off easily and getting up, Foe-Crusher clenched in his right hand.

“Cheater,” he spat, advancing rapidly, and Sirius had to leave his injuries half-healed as he strode back into battle.

“No,” Vorstag whispered, his fists tightening until his fingernails dig into his skin, bringing blood. “No. You can’t win. Die, you miserable bastard, hurry up and die!”

Sirius was seething with rage as he met Hongar strike for strike. The dragon inside him roared in fury, demanding blood. This man was the reason Vorstag cried out at night. He called upon every fight he’d ever experienced, but there was no equal to the burning anger he felt, directed at his opponent. This man who had treated sweet Vorstag like property, a punching bag, a fuck toy -

Gehenna and Foe-Crusher met once more, their wielders throwing all their weight into their weapons as they struggled to overpower each other. Hongar leered at the Imperial, trying to distract him. “How does it feel, Dragonborn? Knowing you had my sloppy seconds? I broke him in, you know. He’s never been very exciting in bed, but…”

His words were cut off as a fist flew out out of nowhere and punched him in the cheek hard enough to stagger him. Blood filled his mouth and he turned to spit out several teeth, but before he could blink Sirius was at him again, his sword-strikes nothing but a deadly blur of fire. It was hard to keep blocking the furious attacks, and Sirius managed to break through, grazing Hongar’s chest with the tip of his blade. Hongar lashed out, kicking viciously, managing to get Sirius in the thigh. They staggered away from each other, panting. Lighting hit the ground not far away, leaving a sizzling smell of ozone. Thunder crashed deafeningly overhead. Vorstag was soaked to the bone and shivering like mad, unable to look away from his two lovers, one he loathed and one he adored.

The huge Nord started forward, and as Sirius lunged once more Hongar sidestepped him neatly, feinting - and the warhammer swung in a silvery arc to connect with Sirius’ spine.

A scream the likes of which neither Hongar nor Vorstag had ever heard in their lives burst from Sirius’ lips, along with a crack loud enough to be mistaken for lightning. The Imperial was lost in a supernova of pain, the whole world going white before him. He hit the ground hard, squelching in the mud. Gehenna flew from his hand, landing out of reach. He didn’t even notice. All he could do was gasp harshly, every breath an agony. His spine was shattered, he couldn’t move. Everything below his waist had gone completely numb, and his left hand was nothing but dead weight.

“It’s about time.” Hongar sneered, kicking mud on the fallen man. He was pleased. Despite the weak flailing of his right hand and his whistling gasps for air, it was clear Sirius was not going to get up. Not now, probably not ever, and the Nord couldn’t be happier at his victory. He turned away from the pitiful, muddied Imperial and strode toward Vorstag. “Well, then,” he growled. “Looks like I won.”

“No.” Vorstag’s entire body was paralyzed. He was caught between terror and overwhelming sorrow, tears of mingled pain and fear flowing. Sirius had stopped moving. Was he dead?

“No!” Vorstag repeated, shouting it this time, and as Hongar closed in on him he whipped a sharp dagger from his boot. He held it to his own throat, glaring at Hongar through a haze of tears. “Stop! Don’t come any closer!”

The Nord froze. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Vorstag snarled, unable to stop his tears from flowing. “If you come one step closer, I’m going to slit my throat. I’d rather die by my own hand, honorably, than submit to you!”

Sirius heard these words, and they smote him with fear. “No,” he gasped, a sound too weak to be heard. He couldn’t get up. The rain drummed all around him, mud oozing into his armor. He wept in shame and despair, unable to rise and defend the man he loved.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “So sorry.” His eyes closed.

_“Don’t give up yet,”_ a soft voice spoke in his ear. The scent of roses met his nostrils, a warm hand ran down his back. Suddenly Sirius found he could move, and the pain was fading away.

_“Go!”_ the voice urged, and he found he had the strength to stand, reaching for his sword.

“Get away!” Vorstag shouted, his voice breaking as he tried to be firm. His hand was trembling. With a chuckle, Hongar leaned over and plucked the blade from his fingers, tossing it aside without a glance.

“You’ve always been a little bitch,” Hongar breathed. “Now, I’m going to show you what happens to bad boys who run away -”

“ ** _MUL QAH DIIV!!_** ”

The great Shout echoed across the plain, fearsome and terrible, drowning out even the thunder and rain. Hongar whirled to see Sirius striding toward him. The Imperial was surrounded by light, light which formed the shape of horns and scales around him, his eyes ablaze with holy fire. Gehenna was awash in leaping, crackling flames, some nearly ten feet tall. Sirius was no longer completely himself, the dragon in his soul finally released to bring its rage upon the man who dared awaken it.

“ ** _HI FEN DIR,_** __” Sirius spoke, his voice many times deeper than normal, shaking the very earth. “ ** _AUSUL SAARAN HI._** ”

“What in Oblivion-“ Hongar whispered as his grip tightened on his hammer. He had never seen anything like this, and for the first time in his life, fear ran through him. But he wasn’t going to back down from a fight. He charged forward, Foe-Crusher held low in a deadly stance. But before he could take three steps, he was thrown violently back by another Shout.

“ ** _ZUN HAAL VIIK!_** ” Foe-Crusher whirled through the air, landing in a patch of dense shrubbery. Hongar watched it go, mouth agape. Was this the true power of the Dovahkiin?

“ ** _DREH NI HAALVUT VORSTAG,_** ” came the awful voice issuing from Sirius’ mouth - snout? He advanced, his long hair floating around his head like writhing snakes. Even Vorstag was afraid of the half-man, half-dragon that stood before them. This was something he’d never seen Sirius do before.

Gehenna descended in a tidal wave of flame, cutting through armor, flesh and bone. Hongar bellowed in real fear as his own flesh was rent open before him, trying desperately to get away. But Sirius attacked mercilessly, roaring in the voice of his inner dragon. Vorstag had to bury his face in the grass and cover his ears to keep from seeing or hearing the awful fate of his former lover. Screams echoed throughout the fields, loud enough for even the farmers outside Whiterun to hear.

“ ** _NAHLOT,_** ” Sirius’ cold, deep voice ordered, and Hongar’s screams turned to gurgling gasps as his throat was slashed open. He lay in a pool of his own blood, wide eyes watching the man who stood over him. Sirius bent and picked up the dagger Hongar had cast side earlier, and a cruel smile curled his lips. He slit open Hongar’s armor, leaving him exposed to the open sky, and dropped to one knee beside him. One dragonscale-clad hand plunged between his thighs. Hongar tried desperately to scream, but was unable. Sirius gripped his penis roughly, his cold grey eyes surveying the Nord’s horrified face. “For Vorstag,” he smirked, and brought the blade down in a swift arc, cutting through flesh and muscle like it was nothing. Blood sprayed in every direction, drenching Sirius to the elbows and turning Hongar’s lower body completely red. The Imperial lifted the severed member for Hongar to see.

“Now, open wide,” Sirius said gently, almost lovingly, and in his last minutes of life Hongar discovered exactly how Vorstag had felt all those years ago.

—

“My love.”

Vorstag opened his eyes. He was laying on his back in the grass. Though the sky was blue and a cool breeze soothed his skin, his clothes were still soaked. He had passed out, but it couldn’t have been for very long. Sirius was kneeling beside him. All traces of his dragon aspect were gone, Gehenna sheathed and propped against a rock. He had removed his gauntlets and wiped the blood from his face.

“Sirius?” Vorstag tried to sit up, and his husband helped him, holding a bottle to his lips. It stung and burned going down, but helped clear Vorstag’s head. He pushed Sirius’ long hair away from his face. “Is… is Hongar gone?”

“He’s dead,” Sirius replied quietly, and Vorstag craned to look beyond him, seeing a straw mat covering the body. There was blood, lots of it, but the only thing Vorstag felt was relief. He sobbed, burying his face in Sirius’ neck, and the two men held each other tightly. The sun was setting as they finally stood and departed, avoiding the covered corpse. Vorstag didn’t know how it had ended and found he didn’t care. It was over.

“Your back,” he said softly, as they hiked toward Whiterun to wash and sleep. “How did…?”

“Lady Azura has saved me once more,” Sirius replied, gazing down at his left hand, where an ancient moon-and-star ring glimmered.

“How…”

“I don’t question her motives or means anymore,” Sirius said tiredly, and Vorstag realized his husband was close to collapsing from sheer exhaustion. “I just thank her for helping.”  


Vorstag nodded as they reached the city gates. Breezehome stood empty, a useful sanctuary amid the busy town. Sirius washed quickly and was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow. Vorstag tiptoed away, going outside to look up at the sky. He faced the northeast unconsciously, as if looking up at Azura’s shrine. His thoughts were with Sirius, but he spoke softly.

“Thank you.”

Free now, he turned away from the stars and went to join his husband.


End file.
